Here I go again, spewing posts. As I just finished a book, though, I feel like critiquing it.
Ernest Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises was not a pleasant read. While reading it, I often felt like chucking it across the room, yet something kept me holding it, reading it, drawn into the aimless lives of Jake Barnes, Lady Ashley, and their comrades. Set in the early 1920s, the book explores the purposelessness many people experienced after World War 1. All that really happens in the story is that the characters travel from France to Spain, eat a lot, drink a lot more, sleep around, and have meaningless conversations. Yet under the nothing of the plot-line pulse deep motifs and symbolism. It is the type of book that begs to be read in a class setting, or at least with a friend, because without discussion it rings hollow in one's mind.
I guess that's why I just blogged about it. This is kind of like discussing the book, even if it is only with myself.
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I love you. :)
ReplyDeleteEarnest Hemingway was kind enough to bring notoriety to Ketchum, Idaho, by committing suicide there. He was such a thoughtful man.
ReplyDeleteI will be reading The Sun Also Rises soon in my English class. However, in seventh or eighth grade, my teacher Mr. Gum, clad in his swanky cowboy boots and various flamboyant vests and pants, told us that was his favorite book. He then proceeded to tell us the whole plot (which didn't seem much to tell), and then he read us the last two lines. Now wasn't that just great?
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